Harry Potter and the Towel of D00m
by Mademoiselle Obvious
Summary: OOCness. In this exciting story, Harry Potter must face his greatest rival yet: a towel. Will he persevere and come out unscathed? And what about Voldemort?


**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter. JK Rowling does, and if she knew about this, she would tear off my fingers and blow up my eyes.

**A/N:** HOMFGZ! New story! Yeah, I just can't seem to concentrate on the other ones. It took me like...a month to write this. 'Cause I'm lazy and wrote like a sentence a week.

I saw the Goblet of Fire. Lamest movie /ever/ I was giggling the whole time, it was so stupid. But..Cedric Diggory was pretty. Neville was too thin, and good-looking. And Voldemort. Oh. My. God. Coolest villian. Is it weird that I thought he was hot? oo; Stupid fangirl self...

Also, I finally finished the Half-Blood Prince. Took me about six months, but ah well. Man, talk about pulling a Spiderman, eh Harry? Stupid book. I hope Ginny dies.

...One more thing before I let you read. I want a deviantart. That way, I could make you people not only read my junk, but look at my art. Which is quite awful. I still want one...

XxX

"I am the protagonist! Nothing bad is supposed to happen to me that I cannot overcome!" screamed Harry Potter, famed Boy-Who-Lived.

"Whoa there. Mate, it's just a Potions essay. Don't freak out," soothed Ron.

"_Just_ a Potions essay! It is the _evilest_ Potions essay that was ever assigned! I mean, this is awful, even for Snape!"

Hermione, who was sitting in a corner, surrounded by books and parchment and other such things, sniffed. "Just because you waited until the last night to start it doesn't mean Snape is completely evil."

"But he is!" screeched Harry. "I'd rather fight Voldemort than write this thing!"

Suddenly, a cloud of glittery purple dust surrounded them all. The Golden Trio looked at each other in confusion.

"That can be arran-" began a menacing voice.

"Bloody heck!" hacked Harry. "I think I inhaled some of that glitter!"

There was a silence from the menacing voice. Then it politely cleared its throat. "As I was saying….That can be arranged!"

"What, me choking to death on some glitter?" exclaimed Harry.

"No, of course not! You said earlier you'd rather fight Voldemort than write your essay. So here I am. So….let's fight!"

"How'd you get in here?" asked Hermione. "There are wards all around Hogwarts preventing any scary dark lords from entering in a haze of glittery purple dust. I read about it in _Hogwarts, a History_."

There was a long sigh from the Dark Lord. "Look, don't ask questions. Maybe the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher is working for me and he let me in. I honestly have no idea. You're the smart one, you figure it out."

"But the DADA teacher is Dumbledore. And we _know_ that he wouldn't let you in." interjected Ron.

"What? Why's the old bat teaching it?"

"No one wanted the job. You know, it being cursed and everything. So he had to do it." explained Harry.

"…Why not Snape? He's been begging for the bloody job for who knows how long."

"Oh, come off it!" cried Harry. "He's a _Potions_ master. He's bloody brilliant with potions and the like. _Why _would he want to teach the defense of a magic he really likes? It makes no sense."

"Well," said Hermione, "You must keep in mind that Professor Snape is actually a good guy, spying for the side of the light, so he wants to teach us how to properly defend ourselves against the Death Eaters."

"_What_!" cried the leader of the afore-mentioned Death Eaters.

"….Crap." said Hermione.

"Oh, I'm going to go down to those dungeons, and I'm going to give that greasy Potions master a piece of my mind!" shrieked Voldemort.

"Er, no, please don't! He'll know we were the ones to tell you and he'll kill us! In unpleasant ways! And then he'll pickle our parts and keep them in jars in his office!" wailed Ron.

"Besides," said Harry, "Weren't you here to fight me?"

"Another time, I've got to go talk to Snape!" cried Voldemort, and he leaped out of the Gryffindor common room into the hallway. There were a few shrieks as unsuspecting students ran into the Dark Lord.

"Well, best get back to your essay, Harry." said Hermione.

"No way! We've got to go save Snape! Who _knows_ what the Voldemort could to do him if we don't save him!" exclaimed Harry.

"And, that way you won't have to write your essay," muttered Ron.

"What did you sa-" began Hermione.

"No time! Got to save the greasy git!" cried Harry as he dragged the two after him.

Meanwhile, down in the dungeons….

Severus Snape was spending a pleasant evening failing his students papers, taking sips every now and then from a glass of fine red wine (or whatever it is distinguished professors drink in the evening). He chuckled a bit as he ruined the dreams of yet another student.

He was startled out of his failing-student trance by a loud gentle rapping, rapping at his chamber door. "'Tis some visitor," he muttered, "tapping at my chamber door. Only this, and nothing more." Snape moved to his door, taking up his wand as he went. You never knew when a little magic would come in handy, whether it was a pranking student, or a meddling headmaster, at the door. "Sir," he said, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore. But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping. And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door. That I scarce was sure I heard you." 'Ere Snape reached out his hand to open the door, then stopped abruptly. He wasn't so stupid as to just open the door. Who knew who was out there. It could be Dumbledore, with some idiotic new idea. "Who is it?" he called through the door.

"Little pig, little pig, let me in."

Snape was offended by the pig remark. He wasn't fat. "Not by the hair on my chiny-chin-chin!"

"Then I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll blow your house down!"

"Omigawd, not my house! Fine, come in." Snape said as he opened the door. "Oh hey Voldie. What's up?"

"The sky," replied Lord Voldemort.

"That's so lame, man," said Snape, "Well, do come in. Care for tea, an everlasting gobbstopper?" questioned Snape, ever the good hostess—er, host.

"Oh, I'm quite alright," Voldemort settled himself on a chair. "I was just up in the Gryffindor common room, and the Golden Trio happened to let slip something I found _very_ interesting."

"Oh really? Did you learn about Dumbledore and Flitwicks affair?"

"What! Are you serious! Oh dude, that's nasty!" cried the Dark Lord.

"It's true. McGonagall accidentally walked into Dumbledore's office at an inopportune moment. She hasn't been the same since."

"Poor woman.." Voldemort mumbled. "Wait! That wasn't what I was here for!"

"Hm?" said Snape.

"You're a bloody spy for Dumbledore!" screeched Voldemort.

Snape paled a bit. Then his eyes turned sly as he regained his composure. "Wherever would you get that idea, my lord?" It was never a bad thing to call Voldemort by his title.

"Well, the Potter's smart friend let it slip. And she seems to be the type that would never get any of her information wrong."

Snape snorted. "Know-it-all-Granger, I suppose you mean. She's very annoying. And, besides, you _know_ that I'm spying for Dumbledore."

"I do?"

"Of course you do! How else do you think I get Dumbledore to tell me anything? How else would I get _any_ information for you?"

"Oh…Yes, that _does_ make sense. Well then, I'll be of-"

Suddenly there was a loud bashing on the door. "I'll get that." Snape said as he moved to the door. Before he could reach it, however, it burst open.

"My eyes!" shrieked Snape and Voldemort.

A few minutes earlier….

"We'll go to Dumbledore. He'll know what to do!" yelled Harry as he sprinted down the corridor, dragging Ron with him, while Hermione followed at a more sedate pace.

Harry skidded to a stop in front of the gargoyle, accidentally flinging Ron into a nearby wall. "Sorry about that!"

Ron mumbled something unflattering about Harry and then slumped to the floor unconscious. Hermione made a few distressed noises and poked Ron in the shoulder. "He's out cold. I'm going to take him to Madame Pomfrey. You can save Professor Snape all by yourself tonight. _Levicorpus_!" This last was said with a swoosh of her wand. Levitating Ron before her, Hermione strode down the corridor to find Madame Pomfrey.

"Okay!" said Harry, "Now, let's go see the professor!" Here he turned towards the gargoyle and frowned. "I don't know the password…Oh well, it shouldn't take too long to figure out! Fizzing whizzbies? Lemon drops? Candy canes? Bertie Bott's? Lollipops?"

Five mintues later….

Harry had exhausted his memory. He knew no other candies. He had even tried every kind of cake, pie, and pastry he knew, too. No luck. Harry decided to take the wizard road. "Alohamora!" Well, it wasn't a surprise when _that_ didn't work. After trying all the other opening spells he knew, Harry was about to give up. Then he decided to take the manly road. He charged the gargoyle. The gargoyle gave Harry an alarmed look and leaped out of the way. Instead of running into a stone gargoyle, Harry ran into a stone wall. "OWSUNUVA-" he began.

"Are you quite all right, Mr. Potter?" asked a voice.

Harry jerked away from the wall and turned to see who was addressing him. It was Flitwick. "Oh-yes-fine-thanks."

"Well, what are you doing running into walls outside of the headmaster's office?"

"Er-trying-get-in-have-talk-Dumbledore!" Harry said, feeling a bit woozy from his run-in with the wall.

"Trying to get in to see Professor Dumbledore, did you say? Well, I know the password; I'll let you in! Open says-me!"

The gargoyle jumped back into its place by the wall, then leaped out of the way again. Harry dabbed at a cut on his forehead.

"Come along then." said Flitwick as he trooped up the stairs. Harry followed, wobbling only a little.

At Dumbledore's door….

Flitwick was just raising his knuckles from the door when it burst open. There stood Dumbledore, wrapped in just a pink, orange spotted towel. "There you are Filius! I was getting worried!" Here Dumbledore wrapped an old, wrinkled arm around Flitwick's shoulders and pulled him in for a kiss.

Harry stood dumbfounded by the door. He was still too deep in shock to do anything he should be doing. Such as screaming, gauging out his eyes, or jumping off the astronomy tower.

"Albus, not now. There is a student here to see you." said Flitwick, as he pulled a reluctant Dumbledore off.

"Oh Harry, how splendid to see you!" cried Dumbledore as he turned towards the paling student.

"….!" said Harry.

"What was that, dear boy? I'm afraid you'll have to speak up."

"Er.." Harry tried to focus his thoughts. Why was he here? Something about glitter…Snape! "Snape! Voldemort! Here! Hermione! Save! Pink towel!"

"One more time, Harry."

Harry, with an outstanding display of self-control, pushed the last five minutes into the basement of his mind and ordered his thoughts. "Voldemort is here and Hermione told him about Snape and now Voldemort is going to kill Snape and Snape can't die because I haven't yet reached an age where he can respect me for being my own self and we can fall in love and live happily ever after so we've got to go save Snape now and we should hurry because he's probably already dead by now."

"Amazing. One of the best run-on sentences I have ever heard in my entire life!" exclaimed Dumbledore. "But Severus is in trouble? Off we go then!"

With that, Dumbledore strode down the stairs—Harry smashed himself against the wall so as not to touch Dumbledore—and headed towards the dungeons. Flitwick followed placidly behind Dumbledore, and Harry trailed after them both.

A few traumatized Hogwarts students later….

"Ah, here we are! Wonderful!" Dumbledore said cheerily as he knocked on Snape's door.

There was silence from within. "Hm. Looks like no one is answering. I'll just let myself in then, shall I?"

Dumbledore muttered a spell that sent the door crashing in. A bewildered Snape looked at the group in the hallway for a moment before the picture registered.

"My eyes!" shrieked Snape and Voldemort—who had peered out into the hall to see who it was.

Suddenly Harry came out of shock—explosively. "OHMIGAWD! DUMBLEDORE KISSED FLITWICK! OHMIGAWDOHMIGAWDOHMIGAWD!"

Harry crashed to the floor in a frenzy, jerking a few times before falling into a dead faint.

"Dear Merlin Albus, put something _on_!" shrieked Snape.

"Son of a _bitch_!" yelled Voldemort.

"What's wrong, my lord!" asked Snape, who was happy for any excuse to look away from Dumbledore.

When Snape could finally tear his eyes away from the pink towel—which was slipping dangerously low—he gaped.

Lord Voldemort was on the floor, convulsing in a troubling manner. After a few more spasms, he fell still.

"My lord!" asked Snape. He inched closer to the Dark Lord and nudged him with the toe of a shoe. Voldemort didn't move.

Snape bent down and felt his pulse. There was none. The Dark Lord was vanquished.

"Yay?" said Dumbledore.

Snape whipped around. "He's _dead_! You killed him, Albus!"

"Oh, good show!" said Flitwick, who then jumped into the headmaster's arms. Snape flinched and looked away.

"I should…probably take Potter to the infirmary..or…something. Feel free to leave my rooms as soon as possible." Snape grabbed Harry, slung him over his shoulders, and pelted out of the dungeons at a dead run.

Dumbledore looked at Flitwick. "Back to my office for tea and lemon drops?"

"Why, surely." replied Flitwick.

And, arm in arm, the two men sauntered out of the dungeons.

XxX

**A/N:** ...I'm really sorry about this. But, think of it as your Christmas gift. Or Hanukkah. Or whatever the hell you celebrate.


End file.
